Clash of the Time Periods
by ravengal
Summary: Germany encounters something strange when he storms over to Italy's house. Something he wasn't expecting to see at all. This leads to talks about the past, connections being made... and tempers being raised. [GerIta]


Author's note: Hi there!

Well, as you can see, I've jumped aboard the HRE bandwagon. I am indeed a believer. Lol. And will remain so, until it is stated otherwise.

Wow, this thing is longer than I was expecting. That's good, though, right? More for you fine folks to enjoy! Hopefully, anyway.

This fic is a kinda, sorta sequel to my other Hetalia fic, Mending Broken Bridges, but it can easily be read on its own.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p><strong>Clash of the Time Periods<strong>

"Zat lazy dummkopf!" Germany fumed, storming towards his destination. "He better have a damn good reason for skipping out on his training today! I vill accept nozing short of him being on his deazbed!"

Reaching the door, he lifted his clenched fist, ready to pound the wood into oblivion, when he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Suddenly curious, he lowered his hand, unclenched his fist and pushed it open.

"Zat's odd..." He walked inside, pushing the door closed behind him.

He heard someone's light humming drifting down the hallway. Frowning, he strode across to the kitchen, ready to deliver his angry lecture. Upon reaching the door, he opened his mouth to speak, but the words froze in his throat. There, back turned to him, was neither Italy nor his brother, Romano. It was a woman in a green dress of two different shades, wearing a white apron around her waist and a white bandana on her head. She was sweeping the floor with a push broom and quietly humming to herself.

He stared at her. For reasons he couldn't quite fathom, she looked strangely familiar. Had he even seen her before? He didn't _think_ he had...

"Pardon me, but who ze hell are you?"

"Hmm?" the woman asked, turning around. A familiar face lit up in a smile. "Oh, hey, Germany!"

Germany leapt back in shock. "_I-Italy_?"

"Yep, it's me! How did you get into my house?" He paused. "Oh, Romano must have forgotten to lock-a the door when he left. That silly brother of mine!"

"Vh... Vhat ze...?" Germany took a deep breath to compose himself. "Alright, first of all, vhy did you skip training? Und, second, vhy ze hell are you vearing a _dress_?"

"Huh? Oh, uh..." Italy suddenly got very fidgety. "Well, you see, it's... it's... cleaning day! Si! Today is the day I wear a dress and clean the house!" He rapidly swept the floor for emphasis.

"... Cleaning day?"

"Si!"

"At _zis_ house?"

"Si! Si!"

Germany put a hand to his face and sighed. "Italy... you're vorse at lying zan you are at fighting..."

"I am? Oh..." Italy's face dropped.

Germany folded his arms. "Now, tell me ze _real_ reason."

"Well..."

"... I'm vaiting."

Italy started flailing his free arm around. "Well, I've been having these really weird dreams lately! Dreams that I haven't had in a very long-a time! And I had another one last night and, oh, Germany, it's so confusing! Then I woke up late and was about to get dressed, but then I remembered that I spilt-a pasta sauce all over my uniform last night, so I had to delve deep into my cupboard to find another one and that's when I found this dress!"

"... Okay..."

"It's a dress I got from Austria when I was a little bambino... I thought-a wearing it again might help make the weird dreams go away..." He started sweeping the floor again, smiling. "Plus, it's really nostalgic. I forgot how therapeutic sweeping the floor can be."

Germany heaved a sigh. "Alright, but... vhat does zat have to do viz skipping out on your training?"

"Huh? Oh, well... nothing, I suppose."

Germany's arms fell to his side as his blood boiled over. "_Zen vhy did you skip out on it_?"

Italy shrieked in terror. "I'm sorry!"

Germany paused a moment, looking at the quivering mess in front of him. Italy was clutching onto his push broom like a comfort blanket and there were tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he really couldn't put his finger on it.

"G... Germany? What's wrong? You're staring at me."

"... Tell me... have I ever seen you vearing zat dress _before_?"

"Huh?" Italy wiped the tears away with his sleeve. "I don't-a think so. The last time I wore it was about three hundred years ago..."

"Hmm..."

"And I'm pretty sure we didn't-a meet until World World One..."

"I suppose not..." Germany paused. "So vhat vere ze dreams about, anyvay?"

"Huh?"

"I might as vell ask, since zey kept you from your training..."

"Oh, well... they were about a boy I used to know... I haven't seen him for a very long time." Italy absentmindedly started sweeping again.

"Hmm... und how long have you been having zem?"

Italy paused for thought. "Uh..." He smiled. "Ah! I think it-a was sometime after Valentine's Day!"

Germany blushed and grunted to himself. Of course...

It had been a while since that mortifying incident, and they'd made up over it, but it still haunted his nightmares occasionally.

"It's not-a been _every_ night, though." Italy continued sweeping. "It's been on and off ever since."

"I see..." Suddenly, Germany remembered something. "... Zis boy... vas he ze first love you spoke of back zen?"

"Si... His name was the Holy Roman Empire... but I liked to call him Holy Rome for short."

* * *

><p>"<em>Holy Rome!" a voice cried out.<em>

* * *

><p>Germany blinked to himself. Why did that name ring a bell somewhere in the back of his mind? He wasn't sure.<p>

"I see... und vhen vas ze last time you saw him?"

"When he left to fight in the Thirty Years' War against-a Big Brother France. I said I'd wait for him, but..."

Germany's expression softened. "He never came back?"

"Nope. He disappeared after the war."

"Oh."

It wasn't often that the air between them was awkward, but it certainly was now. Italy kept sweeping in silence.

"I'm sorry to hear zat."

Italy smiled up at him. "Oh, it's alright. I got over it a long-a time ago!" He started sweeping faster. "I mean, I know he promised he'd come back and I promised to wait for him, but that's okay!" He started sweeping so fast that dust flew up into Germany's face.

Germany coughed. "Uh, right..." He paused. "So, uh... vat did he look like?"

Italy paused his sweeping and tilted his head. He was silent for a moment as he stared at Germany.

"... Vhat?"

"You know, now that you mention it, he kinda looked a little like _you_."

"... Like _me_?"

"Yeah!" Italy smiled. "He had-a blonde hair and blue eyes, just like you! Plus, he could be really scary when he was angry, just like you!"

Germany gave a small, irritated sigh. "Okay zen... vhat else?"

"Well, let's see... the last time I saw him, he was wearing a black cloak..."

* * *

><p><em>A hand flung aside a cloak.<em>

* * *

><p>Germany blinked.<p>

"And a big-a black hat..." Italy continued.

* * *

><p><em>Another hand flung aside a large hat.<em>

* * *

><p>Germany frowned in thought. "A black cloak und hat?" he asked.<p>

"Yep!" Italy replied. "It made him look-a really fancy! I always wondered what he'd look like if he were still around _now_..."

"Von can only vonder..."

"I bet _you'd_ look good in his clothes! You'd probably look a lot like him! Except-a with bigger muscles and scarier eyes!"

"... Scarier eyes?"

"Si! Your eyes are much steelier than his were!"

"Steelier..."

* * *

><p>"<em>Wait, his eyes..." a voice said.<em>

"_Yeah, they're harder," a second voice replied._

"_And so much colder..." a third voice added, "like steel..."_

* * *

><p>"Vait a minute..." Germany muttered to himself.<p>

"Wow," Italy said, "we've been standing here talking for so long and you haven't-a punished me yet!"

Germany blinked, then frowned. "Oh, ja, zat's right. I still need to scold you for skipping training today."

"I'm sorry, Germany... but when I saw this dress, it just brought-a back so many old memories and I just wanted to sweep the house the way I used to sweep _Austria's_ house, back when I was a little bambino! I guess I must've lost track of the time..."

Germany sighed. "You're hopeless. Now put ze broom down und get dressed. Ve can start up some late training."

"Oh, but I like sweeping the floor! It's very nostalgic!"

Germany held out his hand. "Give it."

"Awww... okay." Italy handed him the push broom.

When Germany's hand gripped the handle, he suddenly got a sense of déjà vu, as if he'd done the exact same thing somewhere before. He blinked again.

"... Are you _sure_ I've never seen you dressed like zat before?"

Italy tilted his head. "_Pretty_ sure... Why do you ask?"

He took the broom from Italy. "Because I keep getting zese veird flashbacks... zough I don't recall ever seeing you dressed like zat..."

"Huh... really?"

"Ja."

"Well, I don't know..." Italy beamed. "Unless you're actually Holy Rome in disguise!" He burst out laughing.

"Holy Rome..."

Why was that name so familiar? Holy Rome... Holy Rome... Holy Rome...

* * *

><p><em>He opened his eyes, wincing from the pain. <em>

"_Holy Rome!" a voice cried. "You're awake!"_

_Sitting up slowly, he realised that his body was covered in cuts and bruises. He also appeared to be bleeding in several places._

_Looking around him, he saw a crowd of soldiers all smiling in relief at him. After a few moments, the smiles started dropping one by one._

"_Wait, his eyes..." a voice said._

"_Yeah, they're harder," a second voice replied._

"_And so much colder..." a third voice added, "like steel..."_

_He looked down at the black cape he was wearing, then up at the large black hat that was on his head. He frowned. "Urgh," he said, "vat are zese clothes?"_

"_His accent..." a voice said._

_"Yeah, it's different..." a second voice replied._

_He grabbed both the hat and the cape, ripped them off and threw them in separate directions. _

"_Holy Rome?" another voice asked. "What are you doing?"_

_He looked up at them. "Holy Rome?" he asked. "Who is zis Holy Rome?" Standing up, he slicked his messy hair back and gave the soldiers a warrior's gaze. "My name is Germany."_

* * *

><p>Germany blinked. "Huh..." he said, "so <em>zat's<em> vhere I've heard ze name before..."

"Germany?" Italy asked.

"Uh? Oh, uh... I remembered somezing... Vhen I vas born, my soldiers referred to me as Holy Rome..."

Italy's eyes actually opened at this news. "What?"

Germany looked away awkwardly. "I guess zey must have mistook me for zat _ozer_ guy... I mean, I do recall vearing a black cloak und hat at ze time..."

Hazel eyes blinked at him. "... Really?"

"Ja, but..." Germany noticed Italy approaching him. "... Vhat is it?" Italy stopped right in front of him, staring very deeply into his eyes. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Um..."

"... Holy Rome?"

Irritation bubbled up within him. He pushed Italy away. "Don't be an idiot! I have _no_ recollection of ever meeting, never mind _being_ zis Holy Rome guy! So don't get your hopes up for nozing!"

Italy paused, then closed his eyes again. "Really? Darn..."

Germany gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry I can't be ze guy you loved... Now let's just forget zis ever happened und go train, okay?"

"But... you _are_ the guy I love!"

Germany's stomach did a flip-flop. He heaved a sigh. "Ja, but not ze vay you loved _him_, right?" _Oh god..._ his brain said, _shut up, you idiot!_

"What do you mean? Of course I do!"

"_Nein_! You _don't_!" _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ "You..." He sighed again, lifting the broom to throw it on the floor. He paused, then propped it against the wall. "Look, just forget it... Now, go und get dressed..."

"... Well, okay." Italy took a few steps, then tripped over something. He flailed his arms in panic. "Oh no, my shoelace!"

"Italy!"

He grabbed Italy's shoulders just as his face landed with a light thud onto Germany's chest. The smaller man looked up and the taller man looked down, their gaze locking. They stared, long and hard, at one another. Germany felt heat rise to his face.

* * *

><p>"<em>I've liked you for a very long time... It's been since at least the tenth century..."<em>

* * *

><p>Germany's heart pounded in his chest as he stared Italy in the face. What was <em>that<em>? And why was it making him feel this way? He hadn't even known that memory existed. _Did_ it? Or had he imagined it?

"Since at least ze... tenz century..." he said in a daze.

"... What?" Italy asked in a hushed voice.

"I... don't know... I just randomly remembered somezing und I..."

"The only person who's ever said that to me was Holy Rome..."

Germany tensed. "Is... is zat so?"

Italy stood on his tiptoes and squinted at him. "Hmm..."

"S-Stop zat."

"It's a really crazy thought, but..."

Germany suddenly felt anger explode from within him. "I said stop it!" He shoved Italy away. "You keep your crazy zeories to yourself!"

"But what if it's true?"

"It isn't! You'll just have to get over ze fact zat I am _not_ ze guy you love!" _Seriously,_ his brain said, _shut up! Control yourself!_

"But you _are_, though!"

"Not in ze vay you loved _him_!" _For the love of god, just shut up!_ "You don't und you never vill!" _Why won't yo__u shut up?!_

"But..."

"I'm neizer him, nor a pretty girl, so zere's _no_ space in your heart for _me_!" _I swear, if you don't shut up right now...!_

"Germany-"

"Ozervise, you vould have accepted zat ring!"

Germany's breath caught in his throat at what he'd just said. Italy's eyes snapped open again. There was a long, silent pause as they stared at each other.

"The... ring?"

Germany's face burned. He quickly looked away, trying to save at least a shred of his dignity. "Uh... um... vell..."

"But I thought... Wait, you really _were_ proposing to me?"

"Vell... I... I don't..."

Goddamn it, why the hell couldn't he form a cohesive sentence?

"... Germany... do you love me?"

Germany sneaked a glance at him. "Vh... Vhat?"

"As in... really, _really_ love me?"

His throat was so dry. Was he shaking? He felt like he was shaking. Was that sweat pooling on his forehead? He felt cold, yet his face felt so warm.

"I... I... I..."

"Germany?"

He suddenly felt very dizzy. His legs were turning to gelatine beneath him and he felt like he would collapse at any minute.

Italy closed his eyes, looking concerned. "Are you okay, Germany? You look-a sick." He paused as Germany continued to shiver, then he started to panic. "Oh no! Is the thought of loving me really that disgusting? I'm sorry, Germany! I won't ever bring it up again!"

The sound of these words snapped Germany out of his trance. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. The blonde strands fell around his face.

"Nein... nein... zat's not... not ze problem..."

"It's not?"

"Nein, it's..." His face was still so incredibly warm. He looked away. "It's just..."

"What?"

"I... Vell, I..." He growled in frustration. "Mein gott, zis is so embarrassing..."

"Embarrassing? The thought of loving me, you mean?"

Germany growled. "Nein, you dummkopf! Ze thought of... of..." He paused, gathering what little strength he had. "Of actually _telling_ you zat I... zat..." He paused again. "Ich liebe dich..."

"... Um, sorry, what? I don't understand German..."

Anger boiling over, Germany turned to him. "It means 'I love you', you idiot!"

The silence in the room was deafening. Maybe his face had turned even redder. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. Maybe he should make a request to Britain to dig him one, specially.

After what felt like an eternity, Italy started crying.

Germany jolted back in shock. "_Vha_-? Vhy are you crying?"

"I'm just... just..." Italy flung himself at Germany, a beaming smile on his face. "So happy!" He grabbed him in a tight hug that almost made Germany fall over.

"Vh... Vhat?"

"I never thought-a you'd ever love me back and I was totally okay with that, believe me, but oh, Germany, I'm so happy!"

"Vhat...?"

"I always tell you I love you, right? Well, I wasn't-a lying!"

"Vait... but... vhat?"

"Oh, sure, I love you as a friend, too, but I've really, _really_ loved you for a long, long time!"

Germany felt like he was going to faint. What the hell was going on? "Huh?"

"You were always so nice to me... even though I'm kind of hopeless with a lot of things... and I was always bullied so much by the other countries, but you stuck-a by me! For a while, you were my only friend and you're still my best friend forever! Even though I love you way, way more than that!"

"Vait... but... vhat? I zought... I zought you only loved zis Holy Rome guy und... und girls..."

"Oh, sure, I loved-a Holy Rome... and a lot of the girls I meet are really pretty... but I love you, too! In fact, you and Holy Rome were the only guys I've ever loved."

Germany's head was spinning. "So..."

"Si! I want to be with you, too!"

Germany finally developed the courage to look at Italy. He gently grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him backwards, looking him in his closed eyes.

"Do you? Really?"

Italy nodded enthusiastically. "Si! Si!"

Germany relaxed, allowing himself a small smile. "Zat's... wunderbar..."

Italy gave him the cutest smile he'd ever seen on the man. Suddenly, he looked like something had occurred to him. "Oh! Hey, Germany?"

"Ja?"

Italy smiled again. "Can I kiss you?"

Germany froze, the heat rising to his face again. Goddamn it, he'd only just cooled off!

"U... Uh?"

"Well, _I_ love _you_ and _you_ love _me_, so aren't we supposed to kiss now?"

A strangled noise escaped Germany's throat. "V-Vell..."

"Aww, come on, Germany! Please?"

Germany's face twitched a few times. "V... Vell, I guess... zat vould be ze correct zing to do, vouldn't it?"

"Yahoo!" Italy stood on his tiptoes, struggling to reach Germany's face. "... Hey, Germany? You might have to... meet-a me halfway..."

Germany gave an embarrassed huff. This entire day just wanted to make a fool of him, didn't it?

"Alright, fine..." He knelt down slightly.

"Grazie, Germany!"

Italy leaned forward, really slowly. Painfully slowly. He began to form an 'o' shape with his mouth.

Germany's heart was hammering beneath his ribcage. When Italy's lips were an inch away from his, he panicked and jumped backwards. Italy almost fell over.

"I can't do zis, I can't do zis!"

"Huh?"

"I don't know vhat I'm doing! Please!" He rushed over and gripped Italy roughly by the shoulders. "Tell me you have a book on zis!"

Italy paused a moment. "No, I don't."

"Scheisse!" He let go of the smaller man's shoulders. "Zen vhat am I supposed to do? I need some form of guidance!"

There was another pause. Italy smiled. "Germany, you don't need a manual, or anything! Just-a wing it!"

Germany scowled. "I'm a German! Ve don't 'ving it'!"

"Well, I'll show you! I'm an Italian, after all! We know how to love better than anyone! Apart-a from the French, of course."

Germany gave an embarrassed grunt. "... Alright, fine... but... can you get out of zat dress first? It's making me feel... veird..."

"Huh? Oh, okie dokie!" Italy scooted over to the door. "I'll be right back!"

Once he left, Germany took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

* * *

><p>"Okay, I'm back!" Italy called out, scooting back into the kitchen.<p>

Germany stood up from his chair, his eyes on the smaller man. As promised, he was dressed in his usual blue uniform. He gave a sigh of relief.

"So, _now_ can we kiss?"

A blush rose to Germany's cheeks. "J... Ja..." he replied. He moved away from the chair and into a clear space in the kitchen.

Italy walked over and stood in front of him. "Remember to meet-a me halfway, okay?"

"Ja..."

Italy stood on his tiptoes and Germany knelt down. His heart began hammering again. He wished he could tell it to shut up.

Slowly, they leaned into one another. Once they were an inch apart, Germany closed his eyes, wincing at the thought of playing this by ear.

After a moment, their lips connected. The sensation that washed over him was soft and sweet and so, so right. He felt like he'd entered seventh heaven. His mind was a mess of flowers and butterflies, an image that completely tarnished his militant reputation, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now.

When they parted, he gave Italy the warmest smile he could muster. This man meant more to him than he could understand. One day, he'd tell him that he, Italy, had been his friend when no one else would. One day, he'd tell him that he enjoyed protecting him and keeping him safe. One day, he'd tell him just how much he loved him.

Suddenly, Italy's eyes opened again. The smaller man stared at him in awe.

Germany blinked. "Vhat?"

"... You really _are_ Holy Rome..."

He started. "Vait, vhat?"

"That look in your eyes... you've never looked at-a me like that before..."

"Huh?"

A bright smile lit up Italy's face. "That's the way Holy Rome used to look at-a me! It's not the cold, steely gaze of a German, like it usually is!"

Germany's eyes widened. Scheisse, that meant he'd dropped his barrier. A barrier that he'd always held up to keep others out. Feeling embarrassed again, he looked away.

"Oh... uh... vell..."

Italy bounced around excitedly. "Do it again! Do it again!"

Germany looked back at the smaller man incredulously. "Vhat?"

Italy closed his eyes, still bouncing around. "Look at-a me like that again! Please? Pretty please?"

"... Nein."

"Aww, pretty please with pasta on top?"

"... Are you sure it's really me you love und not Holy Rome?"

Italy nodded. "Si! Though America would-a be so proud of me right now!"

"... Huh?"

"I get a two-for-one deal! Two boyfriends in one!" He threw both arms in the air. "Yahoo!"

Germany stared at him in disbelief. After several moments, he slapped a hand to his face and heaved a sigh. "Mein gott... Remind me to give you ten extra laps for zat von..."

"Whaaaat? You big-a meanie!"

**The End**


End file.
